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Haveloc, "and for a year. Good Heaven! Was there ever such a probation demanded of any one? A year, Sir! In half that time, I may learn she is married to some one else."

"My good friend, your imagination is now rather active," said Mr. Grey.

"No. I do not bid you leave her until, whether soon or late, you have ascertained that she returns your regard, or that you become convinced that you cannot obtain it. Then it is my wish that you separate for a year; and if before that time has expired," he continued with a smile, "she is married to some one else, you will be willing to confess, Claude, that your loss has not been very great."

"Good Heaven!" exclaimed Mr. Haveloc again, gazing vacantly forward, as if a year was a period without any known termination.

"Such is my wish, Claude," said Mr. Grey, "you are neither of you common characters; if you were, I might hasten the matter for fear either of you should change your minds, and so ensure to my niece a large property without the least apprehension for her future peace. But although the world rubs off all that is true and beautiful from most characters, it would take a great deal of such collision to destroy the simplicity of her disposition; therefore, I wish that she should have the opportunity which a frequent intercourse with society gives, to make a selection, as freely as if you had not a hundred pounds in the world. Let her acceptance of you be a choice in the true acceptation of the word, a distinction of you from other people. And I have the same feeling with regard to yourself. You may not be altogether satisfied that you have obtained a beautiful child; you may feel, after a time, that you require the companionship of a more mature mind. It is, therefore, absolutely necessary that you should try if the impression will stand the test of absence."

"Impossible, Sir!" exclaimed Mr. Haveloc; "of all torments in the world, to put off--to forego--the uncertainty--you do not consider."

"I think, Claude," said Mr. Grey, looking at his breathless companion with a quiet smile, "that I consider this subject a little more leisurely than you do at this moment."

"I endeavour to regard the subject with all calmness," said Mr. Haveloc, trembling with impatience; "but I cannot make out the necessity for my undergoing so long an interval of misery as you would assign to me.

Pardon me, but I cannot think you a competent judge of Miss Capel's perfections."

"Much obliged," said Mr. Grey, quietly.

"You are under no suspense," continued Mr. Haveloc. "No one can break the tie which subsists between you and your niece; and therefore you do not view her with the trembling admiration of one who fears to risk everything in the parting from her."

"She is a very nice little girl," said Mr. Grey, "I see that plainly enough."

"I feel myself very inadequate to pronounce an eulogy upon her exquisite beauty, either of person or mind," said Mr. Haveloc, colouring deeply with indignation at the phrase, 'A nice little girl.' "But no one living rates these perfections higher than I do. And I must confess my extreme reluctance to leave them unguarded to any man who chooses to enter for the prize: any common fellow, who without sincerity and without tenderness, desires to possess what all must covet."

"Ought you not," said Mr. Grey who seemed quietly to enjoy the discussion, "ought you not to ascribe to your mistress a little discrimination among all her perfections?"

"By no means," said Mr. Haveloc, "it is no merit in a woman."

And here he spoke perfect truth; for of all qualities, it is the one which men dislike most bitterly in the fair sex. It is just possible that the greater number of them imagine that they should fare but badly in the opinion of women if they were not able to deceive them readily.

"Just put the fire together a little, Claude," said Mr. Grey, "I do not find that this talking is warm work."

Mr. Haveloc did as he was desired.

"Well now, I suppose you are contented," said Mr. Grey. "If you will ring for a taper, I will write this letter; it is growing very dark. I wonder what o'clock it is in the name of goodness?"

"I am not contented, Sir, by any means," said Mr. Haveloc ringing the bell; "but it is nearly seven, and you will not be able to write till after dinner."

"Bless me, and I am not dressed," said Mr. Grey, who in all his solitude never omitted that ceremony.

"Nor I, Sir," said Mr. Haveloc.

"You a lover," said Mr. Grey laughing. "Why, even Benedict brushed his hat o' mornings."

"If you would spare me another minute," said Mr. Haveloc.

"I am sure, Claude," said Mr. Grey, "I have given you reasons enough. It is not my fault if you will not apply them."

"They are very excellent," said Mr. Haveloc; "but certainly an absence of six months would answer every purpose."

"Or three months," said Mr. Grey.

"Undoubtedly, Sir."

"Six weeks, perhaps."

"Any separation whatever, Sir. I need no trial. I can undergo no change; and you may imagine it is not a very agreeable prospect to me that Miss Capel is to be taken into society during my absence, and invited to select some one whom she may like better than myself."

"Well--well," said Mr. Grey, "you will see the advantage of it one day or other. And now I have no more time to spare; my man will think me dead as it is. Seven o'clock, I declare. Well, thank Heaven, these things do not happen every day!"

"Hello! a cabinet council!" exclaimed the well known voice of Mr.

Casement; "let's make it a Council of Three. What is it all about? What not dressed, old gentleman? Then there's something in the wind, as sure as my name is Roger Casement. You had better tell me, for I shall be sure to find it out. Has this young fellow been proposing for Miss Peggy?"

Mr. Haveloc flung himself out of the room in great disdain; and Mr. Grey taking up his candlestick, said "that he was really in a hurry, and that Mr. Casement would no doubt find his niece in the drawing-room."

Margaret was there, ready dressed, and in some wonder that her very punctual uncle had not yet appeared.

Mr. Casement entered, took his usual place on the hearth-rug, and nodded to Margaret, who returned his salutation in silence.

"What's the matter, little woman--been crying?" asked Mr. Casement.

"No, Sir," returned Margaret in some surprise.

"What have they been doing all the afternoon, in there--uncle and the young fellow. Eh?"

"I dare say they have been reading, Sir," said Margaret, "my uncle was alone when I last saw him."

"Reading--bah!" said Mr. Casement; "I say, it is my belief that the young fellow is going to be married; eh?" And Mr. Casement stirred the fire, and watched her countenance by the blaze.

"It may be, Sir," said Margaret, with a quiet smile. "I am not in the secret."

"My old woman has got the rheumatism, so I am come to dine here," said Mr. Casement.

Margaret said she was sorry Mrs. Casement was suffering, and then there was a pause. Margaret played with her greyhound, and Mr. Casement whistled softly, and very much out of tune.

Mr. Haveloc was the first to make his appearance, he came up in a quiet serious manner to Margaret; apologized for being late, and said, that he had also to answer for Mr. Grey's delay, since he had detained him in the library talking of his affairs.

"I should not wonder if he had been gambling," said Mr. Casement in a soliloquy.

Mr. Haveloc never vouchsafed an answer to Mr. Casement's flattering remarks. He drew a chair near Margaret, and began to converse with her.

"What is he talking about, little woman?" asked Mr. Casement, after they had exchanged a few sentences in rather a low tone.

"Nothing, Sir," returned Margaret hastily.

"Faith! you are about right there," said Mr. Casement; "_nothing_ is pretty much the amount of all the young fellows' speeches now a'days."

Mr. Haveloc started from his chair, and began to walk up and down the room. Mr. Casement followed his movements with a look of quiet satisfaction. He was never more entirely happy than when he had exasperated any one. As soon as tea was over, Mr. Grey said that he had a letter to write, which he could not put off, and that Mr. Casement must excuse him for half an hour.

"Some of your business, I suppose, Master Claude;" said that amiable gentleman nodding his head in the direction of the library.

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